


The Animal Instinct

by shealynn88



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instinct gets the better of Monroe, and there are only two things his inner Blutbad is interested in...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Animal Instinct

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nellie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellie/gifts).



Eddie woke with a start, hyper-alert. His eyes cut through the darkness to an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar scents. Dust. Lemon. He kept the wolf down, barely, as he slid off the still-made bed and crept though the partially open door into the hallway. He shook off the remnants of sleep, senses heightened to the point of pain. Hunger roiled dangerously close to the surface, sharp and ready.

A slight scraping to his left alerted him to someone else, moving in that slow deliberate way that screamed 'hunt'. Eddie sniffed the air. Unfamiliar. Hackles up, he inched forward, blood rushing in his ears, moon calling his name. He fought the wolf, inched, fought, inched...

And then a figure stepped into the hallway just a few steps away, hands raised, gun in hand. The red shorts heightened the desperate hunger, turned his vision red-rimmed and focused. He rushed, shoulders hunched, wolflike; his momentum propelled them both back through the open door behind his attacker.

He tossed the man nearly across the room, across the bed that stood in the center and he followed, dragging his prey by the arm up onto the bed, taking a deep breath and welcoming the thrill of the hunt. He straddled him easily, crouched and folded, on the balls of his feet and the pads of his fingers, looming over the human and reveling in the fear. He could smell the blood now, under the wolfsbane, could hear that rapid, panicked heartbeat inside that fragile ribcage like a siren's call, a promise. Vision completely red, now, he took a deep breath of the bloody perfume.

He roared, releasing his furious breath at the face of his enemy...and the man stared back at him, face blanched and terrified.

“Eddie,” the man said. “It's Nick. It's Nick, Eddie. Please...”

He growled in frustration, stalled by a hesitation he couldn't explain. He dug his fingers into the mattress on either side of his prey until he gripped the springs. No, no, no. This was his hunt, his kill! He'd won him, chased him, removed the risk, and now he'd earned the flesh. He was _hungry_. It burned in him, demanding flesh. Now. God, he'd never been so hungry.

“Please,” it said again, and Eddie cocked his head. Pitiful, shivering creature, smelling of salt and wolfsbane and fear. Eddie moved closer, tucking his head into that tender bit under the ear, sniffing.

It was suddenly still and quiet, just waiting for him to open his mouth, bite down, taste blood.

There was a reason he shouldn't, but he was having trouble remembering.

He licked over the pulse and shivered in anticipation, lips peeling back again of their own accord. He could feel the blood here. Right here, so close to the surface. Just rushing there, waiting.

“Eddie, don't do this,” it whispered, and his name triggered something. Something vague. 

He didn't want to do this...but why?

He slid back, just slightly. Away from the pulse – too tempting to be so close. He didn't want to kill it without remembering why it was so important not to.

It smelled of sweat and fear and it's heart thumped desperately in it's chest. He licked there, just over the heart, shivered again at the taste of sweat, and the feel of that heartbeat against his mouth. Why? _Why_ couldn't he just rip it open and feast?

He heard a tiny whimper and looked up, and it – he – was looking down. “Eddie?”

He licked his lips. “Nick?” He knew this man. He wasn't an enemy. He wasn't prey.

But he smelled so good. Eddie's eyes closed of their own accord, his nose told him that he'd caught prey...his stomach told him he was starving.

His mouth was open just slightly, watering, and he could taste the salt still on his tongue – an appetizer; the salt on the rim of the glass. He so wanted to dig his fingers in and pull out all the sweet bits. It had been so long.

Nick was a friend. Eddie didn't hunt anyone any more.

But he couldn't resist. He just couldn't. Nick smelled like food, forbidden fruit, everything his instincts wanted. The wolf was so, so hungry, and he couldn't stop it – the wolf was in charge, and the wolf loved nothing more than the kill. Well...almost nothing...

There was another smell in the air. Stale and faint on the sheets, but there...and this was the only other thing the wolf cared about.

Eddie concentrated on the musky scent underneath, trying to avoid the blood smell and concentrate on the sound of the pulse. Not fear...excitement... Not his to eat...but his, all the same.

The wolf understood this, and it was the best Eddie could do.

He lowered his head again, moved his lips against Nick's chest. 

Nick whimpered and he forced himself not to hear fear. Not fear. Pleasure.

Eddie moved slowly, making sure his instincts were all in line with this new definition before he used teeth, biting down slowly above Nick's nipple until Nick made another sound and squirmed uncomfortably.

Eddie almost ripped him apart. “ _Don't. Move._ ” he managed between clenched teeth. Dammit, it was hard enough without Nick fighting to get away. The movement screamed 'prey'.

He bit again. Slowly, not quite drawing blood. Just enough to make a mark. Mine. And this time, Nick was still, and the little sound he made didn't sound like fear at all.

Eddie pressed his body down over Nick's to cover his legs, waist, abdomen. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he winced as he put all his weight on Nick – but it kept him from seeing Nick's boxers, which were bright red (what the hell had he been thinking?) and it kept him from looking at his abdomen, which, while quite muscular, was also the soft part with all the tasty blood filled organs and, dear God, the less he thought about that, the better.

He tried to slow the attack to keep it from hurting, but the wolf wasn't good at seduction. He pressed his lips to Nick's until Nick's head created a divot in the mattress. His lips were curled back and he was trying so hard not to bite, but he managed to split Nick's lip open against his teeth, and the taste of blood made his breath come harsh, and his hands curled into claws again, and he fought the hunger.

Nick lifted his head as Eddie moved back slightly. Nick moved toward him slowly, and Eddie closed his eyes as Nick licked the line of his lips and then the slight roughness of his chin, evoking a sudden overwhelming sensation of heat and blood and want. His breath came harsh and fast, Nick's show of submission allowing him to press the hunger down under the need. He pressed down into the kiss, opening his mouth and devouring in a wholly new way.

Their breath hissed between them, shared and desperate, and Nick's hands were on him, gently, tracing the lines of muscle of his back, the edge of his jeans, the lightest of touches, never demanding. The lack of aggression finally lulled the beast enough that Eddie could wrestle it back, and he shook his head as it slid just under his skin. Waiting.

Nick lay completely still under him. His face was pale, lips swollen. “Okay?”

Eddie clambered off him, trying not to blush. “Umm...yeah, sorry about that.” He made himself very busy with dusting off his pants (ignoring the painful tightness of his jeans) and straightening his shirt. “I figured it was preferable to tearing your arms off. Instincts, you know?”

He shrugged sheepishly, hoping desperately that Nick would just let the whole thing go.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

Eddie changed the subject quickly. “Oh, man, I'm starving – what the hell happened?”

Nick shrugged, watching Eddie carefully out of the corner of his eye as he grabbed a pair of jeans from a chair. Eddie shifted uncomfortably.

“Well that tranc put you out for about...seven hours, I think. I put you in the guest room to sleep it off. Man, whatever they hit you with--”

Eddie looked at him in horror, speechless, and Nick trailed off. Panic threatened to send him over the edge again. “Are you kidding me? Seven hours?” He looked around frantically. If he didn't eat every five hours, well, he was liable to eat...practically anything. “Tell me you have a veggie burger or something downstairs.”

Nick looked at him, suddenly intense. “Downstairs.”

“Shit.” Eddie remembered the crash that had started the whole downward spiral. “All right. Tell me you keep something up here. A granola bar? A squashed roll from last night's dinner?”

Nick looked at him disgustedly.

“Oh, don't tell me you don't do that. Everybody does that.” He avoided Nick's eye. Maybe it was just blutbads. How was he to know? Not like he generally hung out with humans.

“I think Juliette keeps mints in the drawer, there,” Nick said, gesturing vaguely as he got up, watchful eye on the door.

Eddie grimaced. “Mints?”

“In the drawer.” Nick was completely distracted now – in full cop mode.

Eddie rolled his eyes, quietly glad that he wasn't Nick's biggest concern anymore, and slid open the nightstand.

There were mints all right. About twenty of them, individually wrapped little nuggets of processed sugar and food dye. That red dye #5 was illegal in nine European countries. Of course, he thought, glancing at Nick out of the corner of his eye, the alternatives weren't so good either.

Sighing, he popped a few of the candies out of the wrappers and stuffed them in his mouth. Nick glared at him as he crunched down loudly. Eddie rolled his eyes at him. As if they'd been silent before. Anything that was down there knew it had company.

Eddie sighed and walked around the bed. 

“Let me go first,” he said around the next mouthful of candy, giving Nick and the memory of his brilliantly red boxers a wide berth.

This sidekick thing was hell on his diet.


End file.
